


Cupboard Love

by Werelibrarian



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Danny made friends!, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-16 13:18:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15437883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werelibrarian/pseuds/Werelibrarian
Summary: “I guess you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you here,” Danny said when the last Defender (Jessica, hungover) met him outside Matt’s apartment.“No, but I’m wondering how long until I can leave,” Jessica said. Claire handed her a takeout coffee and got in return a smile so genuine Danny was momentarily speechless.“Matt’s avoiding us, and I think we ought to remind him he’s not alone.” A kind of dubious look bounced from Claire to Jessica to Luke and back again. “So I think we should bring him, you know, some food.”“Like a casserole?” Claire said doubtfully.





	Cupboard Love

Don’t listen to Jessica, Danny absolutely did not fall out of bed when Matt came back to life. It wasn’t his fault that Colleen’s bedside table was practically across the room, and when he reached for his phone, he had to hold himself up with his hand on the floor.

“The blind idiot’s alive,” Jessica had said. “They found him in a convent!”

Danny meant to yell “Oh my god, no way?” but instead of that, his supporting arm collapsed under his weight and he fell...not _out_ of bed, per se, but not necessarily in an upward direction.

“What the hell was that?” Jessica yelped.

“Whzzsnrfl,” Colleen said, turned over, and went back to snoring.

“I’m fine,” Danny answered, knees on either side of his ears and the hem of his boxers resting on the bridge of his nose. “Nothing happened.”

–

Pulling on a hoodie, Danny padded to the kitchen and scrolled through the contacts in his phone until he found one labelled Do Not Punch Ow.

“Someone better be bleeding,” Luke sighed. In the background, Claire went “noooooo” sleepily. “I’m not kidding, Danny, it’s too late for this.”

“Matt’s alive.”

“I know, Jessica called me too.”

“What are you supposed to do for that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, should we throw him a party?”

“I thought people came back from the dead all the time where you’re from.”

“That’s the Hand, Luke, not the Chaste.”

“Same diff from where I’m standing,” Luke muttered.

“Hey,” Danny said, offended.

–

In the end, Danny decided it was more like getting out of the hospital than say, being born again, so he bought Matt a cactus. It was a cute cactus--round and stubby and kinda looked like it should be named Bob. In Jessica’s office, he held a selection of ribbons against the pot it came in.

“Blue or yellow, that’s all I’m asking here.”

“What would Malcolm do. What would Malcolm do. What would Malcolm do,” Jessica chanted under her breath , her fingers pressed to the bridge of her nose. Then heaving a sigh, she said, “OK, walk me through this again, Rand.”

“I was going to get him flowers. But I figured that Matt might not want to get flowers from another guy.”

“Bullshit, but OK.”

“So I thought about other types of plants.”

“I’m still with you.”

“And a cactus, you know. It isn’t girly.”

“Right.”

“And that’s why I got a cactus.”

“Gotcha,” Jessica sighed. “And what’s Matt going to say the first time he touches it?”

“Why would he touch it–” Danny scoffed and reached for the cactus. “Ow!” He stuck his pricked finger in his mouth.

Jessica squeezed her eyes shut. “Three, two, one,” she counted under breath.

“Oh my god, Daniel!” Danny moaned, clutching his head.

“And we have lift-off,” Jessica’s glare went disgusted and a shade sympathetic at the same time.

“Don’t tell Luke,” he begged.

This made her laugh, and Danny looked up at her through his lashes beseechingly. She snorted. “Fine,” she scoffed. “I won’t tell anyone you bought the blind guy something he can’t touch.”

“When can we visit him?” Danny asked. His leg was jiggling.

“In a few days. Nelson says he’s sleeping most of the time still.”

Danny stuck out his lip.

“Don’t make that face at me. Use the time to get him something better.”

–

“Hey rich boy, have you ever had tamales?” Luke said when Danny picked up the phone.

“What’s that?”

Luke made a sad noise. “That’s all the answer I need. Meet me and Claire for lunch. You’re buying. Does Colleen want to come too?”

Danny poked his head into the training room, where Colleen and Misty were beating on each other, nun-chuks against Misty’s brand new metal arm. Colleen’s face was–well, the last time he’d seen that expression, she’d just tackled him onto the bed and had pulled at his waistband so hard it ripped.

“No, she’s busy,” Danny said faintly as Misty picked up his girlfriend by the bra-straps and threw her across the mat.

“Again!” Colleen yelled, and flung herself back into Misty’s arms.

Even though it was a perfect New York spring day, Luke had an extra hoodie thrown over his shoulder. As he and Claire walked towards Danny, she kept trying to grab it and he batted at her gently.

“Look what Luke got today,” Claire said, instead of hello. “Show him.”

“Claire, baby, come on, no.” Luke held the sweatshirt out of her reach.

“What is it?” Danny asked, grinning. Anything that made Luke that grouchy was worth seeing.

Rolling his eyes, Luke handed him the hoodie. Danny held it up by the shoulders.

“Sweet Christmas,” he read. Then he threw his head back and hooted. “That’s so cool!”

“Ugh,” Luke said. He sounded like Jessica.

“Are you gonna wear it?”

“Hell no!”

“But it was a gift!”

“It doesn’t fit.”

“Aw.” Danny said, and grinned at the big yellow words again. “Can I wear it?”

Now Luke did laugh. “Yeah, go on kid.”

“Not a kid,” Danny said, but he shrugged into the hoodie. “It’s perfect!” he held his arms out delightedly.

“One of the deadliest people in New York, and he’s like a puppy.” Claire commented.

“He likes his big-boy clothes,” Luke said, and kissed the side of her head.

“We should all get one!”

“As if Jessica would wear anything like that,” Luke scoffed.

“Well, Jessica’s would say something else.”

“Like what?”

Danny thought. “‘Hey Asshole’?”

Claire barked a laugh and then covered her mouth. “‘I need a drink’?”

Luke put one arm around her and the other one around Danny, leading them both in the direction of the restaurant. “How about just ‘Ugh’?”

Danny looked up at him. Luke’s grin was just beautiful. “That’s perfect.”

–

“We are not,” Jessica’s fist was twisted up in the front of Danny’s t-shirt, “getting team jackets.”

“You’re the boss,” Danny wheezed, giving her a weak thumbs up. Jessica patted his head and then dropped him. He rubbed his throat.

“But think about it, Jessica,” Danny called, still sprawled on the floor. He spread his hands like he was laying out words on an imaginary marquee. “Head Bitch in Charge.”

Jessica made a considering face that was nearly a smile. Then she scowled. “No.”

“Told you she wouldn’t go for it,” Colleen said, helping him up.

“Yeah, but I got her to smile.”

Colleen smirked, but helped him up anyway. “Barely.”

\--

Matt was dodging him, Danny was almost sure of it. Neither Claire nor Jessica would give him Matt’s number, or the number of that lawyer. Misty glared at him when he asked her to use NYPD resources to find his address, and Luke seemed perfectly content with the fact that the fourth member of their team seemed to want nothing to do with the first three.

“He’s got shit to sort out.” Luke said, and then clammed up with a heavy look at Claire.

“He’s doing ok,” Claire patted Danny’s shoulder, “he says thanks for the fruit basket, and he’s proud of you taking care of ‘his city’,” she did little finger bunnies around the words.

Danny beamed. Claire patted him again.

“…goddamn self-sacrificing idiot thinks he can mother hen a whole island…” she muttered.

Matt had been right, though. Being on the roofs of Hell’s Kitchen at night did make Danny feel like he was responsible for everything he saw. The little people that walked around, the little lights in all the windows.

Danny squinted and hopped down to a lower balcony to see. There were two familiar little people walking along the sidewalk. They were walking arm in arm, slower than any New Yorker would ever deign to. As Danny got closer, he could see one was limping and the other one was practically holding him up

“We can slow down, Matt,” the other one said. The lawyer guy. Nelson.

“I’m fine, Foggy,” Matt said, and Danny bit his lip. He sounded tired, and beat down, and in need of way more than flowers or fruit baskets. Danny hopped down again, so close that he was in danger of Matt clocking his presence. Matt's face was still covered in white squares of sticky bandage, and he was leaning to the side, his weight heavy on Foggy’s arm.

“Horse feathers,” Foggy said, sweeping a hand along Matt’s back.

Matt burst out laughing, then grabbed at his ribs with a hiss. Foggy’s arm went under Matt’s armpit, holding him up. “The fuck?” Matt coughed, still giggling a little.

“I gave up swearing when I was bargaining with God for your life,” Foggy said tautly.

Matt’s mouth went unhappy, but he reached out a bandaged hand and touched Foggy’s face. “Hey, it’s ok. I’m here,” he said softly.

Danny followed them all the way around the block, even when Matt had to stop twice to puff shallowly, and smiled to himself as they slipped into an apartment building, Foggy ushering Matt up the stairs and through the door like he was something precious.

–

“I guess you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you here,” Danny said when the last Defender (Jessica, hungover) met him outside Matt’s apartment.

“No, but I’m wondering how long until I can leave,” Jessica said. Claire handed her a takeout coffee and got in return a smile so genuine Danny was momentarily speechless.

“Matt’s avoiding us, and I think we ought to remind him he’s not alone.” A kind of dubious look bounced from Claire to Jessica to Luke and back again. “So I think we should bring him, you know, some food.”

“Like a casserole?” Claire said doubtfully.

“Something like that,” Danny said, bouncing up and down a little and throwing open the rear doors of the van he was leaning on. They peered in.

“Did you buy a restaurant?” Luke asked, after a long beat.

“It’s just some food,” Danny said, and Luke poked his arm, “ow, okay, fine. Food from the best restaurants in New York.” He grinned at the Defenders. “You wanna help me bring it up and surprise him?”

When Matt opened the door, his eyes were confused and chest was bare, which Danny thought was a little strange, since he should have been able to hear Jessica’s grumbling coming from floors away. His pyjama pants sat so low on his hips that Claire bit her lip and blushed.

Danny shoved a covered dish under Matt’s nose and asked (brightly, so he didn’t start fretting over the bandages), “Pork or shrimp?”

“Atlantic salmon,” Matt said, “From De Duccios’ on Fifth avenue.”

“Oh, really?” Danny squinted at the shiny silver dome. “I asked for shrimp.”

“Hey, some of us have stuff to do today, you know,” Jessica called from the hallway, where she had three crates of covered dishes stacked up in her arms. She couldn’t see over them.

“Was that Jessica? Sorry I got in the way of your pre-lunch drinking,” Matt said belligerently.

“You can make it up to me later,” the stack of crates shot back, pushing past first Danny then Matt. Claire and Luke followed her. Jessica unloaded her crates on Matt’s dining room table with a bump–gentle, for her–and threw herself down on the sofa. “Got a beer?” she asked, putting her feet up on Matt’s coffee table.

“Can we come in? Won’t take no for an answer,” Danny said winningly, still standing in the hallway. His teammates might have no manners, but Danny’s mom didn’t drill him on politeness for nothing. Rolling his eyes, Matt stood aside.

“Look, guys, I appreciate this but, my ribs, you know…” Matt said, easing himself into the kitchen chair.

“You need to eat, and what are teammates for if we don’t take care of each other? And, you know, bring each other brunch on occasion? Do you like brunch? This won’t do,” Danny tutted at the sad-looking table. “Where do you keep your table linen?”

“I’ve never seen a table cloth but the towels live in there,” Claire pointed to a closet near the bedroom. Danny saluted and threw it open.

“My what? No, Danny, don’t!”

Danny shrieked. Luke and Jessica both dropped plates to rush to his side.

Inside the closet, Foggy Nelson had a towel clasped over his groin and a grimace on his face. And that was it.

“Nelson?”

“Hi Luke. Ms. Jones,” Foggy nodded.

“Oh god, my eyes,” Jessica muttered. “Murdock, where are his pants?”

“Right here,” Matt rushed forward, puffing and holding his ribs, and thrust a pair of suit trousers at Foggy, who took them, then, looking contrite, pulled the linen closet door closed.

For a long time, there was only the sound of muffled swearing and elbows and knees hitting the inside of a tiny closet, and the the sound of a zip being pulled up. Matt put his face in his hands.

“Keep your chin up, Counsellor,” Foggy said, striding out of the linen closet with his pants thankfully on and making a bee-line for the shirt that was hanging from Matt’s bookshelf, “no one saw your junk.”

“So how long have you been sleeping with my lawyer?” Jessica said, grumpily helping herself to the last of the coffee in Matt’s 1970s style coffee maker. Her cheeks were pink, and Danny was fascinated, but when he leaned in to examine her her blush more closely, she slammed the empty carafe into his stomach. He grunted, but the carafe didn’t break, so he knew she was just teasing him.

“I’m your lawyer!” Matt said. Danny slid the carafe back into the maker and quietly set about making a new pot.

“I switched firms.”

“When?”

Jessica’s glare was so heavy it could have bent the light of the sun. “When you were dead.”

“Yikes,” Foggy muttered quietly. Matt sipped his coffee in chastened silence. In the kitchen, the coffee pot began to hiss and fill.

Claire, who was lit up like a goddess against Matt’s frankly spectacular windows, kissed the top of Nelson’s head and cupped his face in her hands. “You know what you’re doing, Foggy?”

“Are you kidding, it’s Matt,” he said, eyes gazing up at her adoringly, “I have no idea what’s gonna happen.”

“But?”

“But I’m gonna stay with him anyway,” he said. Matt buried a lovestruck expression in his cup.

“If I say congratulations, will you have an emotion?” Luke asked Matt, an indulgent smile on his face. When Danny ambled over and bumped his huge bicep with a mug of fresh coffee, he took it with a vague nod.

“I’ll endeavour to refrain,” Matt said dryly, and transferred his grip to the fresh cup Danny put by his hand.

Claire’s stomach growled–he knew she had worked a late night shift–so he pulled out a chair and put one of the plates of french toast in front of her.

“Murdock’s never successfully refrained from a thing in his life,” Jessica snorted, and tore open one of the brioche buns that Danny put in the middle of the table. “Christ, these are dry.”

“Here’s some butter,” Danny said, putting down a dish and also a few pots of jam.

“I refrain from kicking your ass on a daily basis,” Matt said, picking up a fork and digging into the spanish omelette that Danny dropped off in front of him. He took a bite, and then his eyes fluttered up and held the next forkful out to Foggy, who wedged himself onto half of Matt’s chair and leaned in to take a bite.

“Children,” Luke chided, pulling up a chair and helping himself to a plate of truffle scrambled eggs on english muffins.

“You. Are not. My dad,” Jessica said, witheringly, but her eyes were dancing.

“I don’t know, I’m sort of up for it.” Foggy flashed Luke a devastating smile and winked.

“What the hell, Foggy,” Matt said, “could you not flirt with men while you’re sitting in my actual lap?” Danny tucked his chin into his chest and grinned. He abandoned another three plates on the kitchen table and they fell under the forks of his teammates without any break in the conversation.

“Sure Matt,” Foggy said, and winked at Claire and Jessica in turn. “Hello ladies,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

Matt jabbed Foggy in the arm. “I heard that.”

Foggy laughed, and then Jessica started teasing Claire for blushing, and Luke started offering commentary about the how Jessica’s eyes had also gone a little bit starry, and then Matt had offered to fight Luke for Foggy’s honour while Claire and Foggy debated the odds.

And Danny stood in the kitchen, counting out scoops of coffee grounds to go into Matt’s hundred-year-old coffee maker, dishing up plate after plate of New York’s finest fare for his friends and smiling to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on werelibrarian.tumblr.com


End file.
